


Inspiration

by IldiDragonheart



Series: The Adventures of the Scamander Siblings [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Central Park, Drawing, F/M, Gen, How Do I Tag, New York City, Newt likes drawing many things, Siblings, Sketches, Sorry took me so long to publish something again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IldiDragonheart/pseuds/IldiDragonheart
Summary: Newt loves to draw. He'll draw anything that comes to mind—and by anything, I mean ANYTHING. But he hates drawing strangers, though.And yet, somehow, he still ended up drawing this beautiful brunette he saw while lounging around Central Park, looking for an inspiration to draw.
Relationships: Newt Scamander & Theseus Scamander & Original Female Character(s), Tina Goldstein & Newt Scamander, Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander
Series: The Adventures of the Scamander Siblings [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979624
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> And I am back after a month or so. Hope you like this one.

_Tak!_

Newt groaned and threw his head back in frustration. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. This is the fifth time his pencil broke—the fifth time in the past t _en minutes_ of doing nothing else but sitting on a bench in Central Park in New York with a sketchbook on his lap and a pencil in his right hand.

"Why isn't anything coming into my mind?" he growled under his breath while smacking his forehead with his hand holding the broken pencil.

Newt loved to draw. Ever since he can hold a pencil, all he did was draw. Every birthday, he would ask for either a new set of crayons, paintbrushes, or pencils or a new sketchbook since the last one he had was full of his drawings.

But, this time, a miracle perhaps...

He was out of ideas.

And that's why he's sitting on a bench at Central Park.

Newt groaned again. _Why, why, why, why..._ he thought. _Why can't I think of something to draw?_

"Hey," a voice called from above him, jolting him back to his surroundings. He opened his eyes to see his younger and only sister staring him down.

She seemed rather annoyed.

"Oh...hello..." he grimaced at her.

Primrose (or Prim) rolled her eyes and sat down beside him. Newt sat up properly and saw that she had two cones of ice cream with her. Prim pushed the one in her left hand to him as she began licking hers.

"Here," she offered. Newt simply stared at the ice cream. Prim groaned, "Well? Are you just going to stare at it till it melts?"

Newt shook his head and set aside his sketchbook and pencil to receive the ice cream, which was beginning to melt.

"You better eat that quick. With this heat, that ice cream of yours will turn into cold soup in a matter of seconds," Prim told him. She was already halfway done with hers, which was no surprise to Newt. This girl loved ice cream, especially cookies and cream.

Newt nodded and began eating his ice cream. The two siblings sat there in silence as they ate their ice cream.

The silence that didn't last long, though, because Prim ate the last of her cone and decided to pester him again.

"So," she began, "how's your drawing going?"

The question itself made Newt groan for the nth time that day. "Don't ask," he replied.

Prim stared at her older-by-a-literal-twelve-years (yes, that's what she called him) brother in surprise. "Huh? Why?" she asked. When he didn't say a word, Prim smirked.

" _No_...don't tell me you're out of ideas?" No answer. Prim laughed, "Oh my goodness, what a miracle! The art prodigy, Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, is out of ideas!"

"Don't shout it out!" Newt scolded, shooting her a glare. "And I am not out of ideas. Just..."

Prim raised a brow. "Just what?"

"I just...well...I..." Newt stammered, his eyes darting everywhere but the annoying brat in front of him.

"Oh, c'mon, Newt. Don't be shy. Just admit that you're having one of these...what's it called? Something like Writer's Block, but for artists like you."

"I told you, I am not having a block. I just that can't think straight in this heat, that's all."

"Liar. I already gave you ice cream, so that should've helped."

"Well, maybe...maybe it didn't work...this time..."

"This time?"

"Yes, now will you please shut up and let me think in peace?" Newt sighed, picking up his sketchbook and placed it on his lap before rummaging his pencil case for the sharpener.

Prim shrugged. "Whatever. I'll go find our _dearest_ older brother and pester him instead," she declared and walked off to find their brother who might be somewhere on the other side of the park. "Good luck with your drawing, though!" he heard her shout.

Newt chuckled. What is he going to do with that girl? He's already questioning how he was related to her.

After sharpening his pencil and putting away his sharpener, Newt sat there with his pencil tapping away on the blank page he had opened in his sketchbook and began thinking of something to draw.

He looked around to see if he could take inspiration from his surroundings.

Animals? No.

The New York City skyline? No. Did that yesterday.

The park? Maybe some other day.

He sighed. Maybe he was out of ideas like Prim said. Newt rolled his eyes. _I hate it when that girl is right._

Newt kept looking around, anyway, hoping to find something worthy to draw. He wanted to draw the birds hopping on the grass in front of him, but he already numerous drawings and sketches of birds (and, possibly, every animal he had encountered with).

_How about the people?_ He asked himself but immediately decided against it. Yes, he tried sketching portraits of people but all those pieces were of his parents, siblings, and close friends ("If you do have one of those," his older brother Theseus teased him one day). Newt was a mess when it came to people. He never really understood them, anyway.

Amid his deep thought, his eyes landed of a woman not too far away from him and he felt that time seemed to stop.

The woman had short brunette hair the stopped just below her chin. She was wearing a white blouse and a skirt that Newt couldn't describe if it was brown or black, and boots. She was sitting on a picnic blanket with a blonde woman (Friend? Sister?). They were chatting animatedly about something that Newt couldn't be bothered to think of, for all he could think of was how beautiful the brunette looked.

_Wait, beautiful? Since when did you find her beautiful?_ A voice asked in his head. _You don't even know her!_

Newt shook his head, blocking off the voice. "Whatever," he muttered.

After staring at the woman for more than a few seconds necessary, Newt raked his eyes around the park again for some inspiration. He tried considering the birds flying overhead or other people in the park (mostly the children playing), but he always found himself staring back at the brunette. He didn't know why, but he just did.

Then, Newt considered the option of walking around, find a new spot to sit and draw. Maybe a change of scenery and view would help. Newt nodded. Yes, that might just be the thing he needed to finally draw something. So, Newt packed up his materials into his bag and walked around the park to find a new spot to sit down.

A few minutes of walking around later, Newt found the perfect spot: under a large tree. It was perfect! It wasn't crowded, and the shade cooled him off. Smiling, Newt sat under the tree, pulled out his materials, and began looking around to see if there was something he could draw. He glanced around the park for a few minutes before landing his eyes on a woman that was not too far off to distinguish her features.

Newt was about to whip his pencil out when he realized who the woman was.

It was the same brunette from before. And she's sitting closer to where he was.

Newt sighed and leaned his head against the trunk. _Her? Again?_ He groaned, running his hands across his face. He heaved a deep breath. Dropping his hands, Newt let himself stare at the woman again.

From his new position, the woman was much closer than she was when he sat on that godforsaken bench under the blazing heat. From his new position, Newt can see some features of hers. He realized that she had dark eyes and a rather beautiful smile.

Newt blinked. _There you go again_ , he groaned. _Calling her beautiful when you don't even know her._

Again, he tried looking around for other subjects to draw, but his eyes would keep coming back to the woman. Sighing, Newt knew he had no choice. _The woman it is, then,_ he finally relented.

And so, he began sketching. Every now and then, he would cast quick glances at the woman to see if he was sketching her right. And as he did so, he would sometimes catch the gaze of the blonde that sat with her. When he did, Newt would feel his face heat up and look away, pretending that he wasn't drawing her companion at all. And he swore she giggled every time. Sometimes, the brunette would look too, making Newt feel more embarrassed than he already was.

You see, this was why Newt didn't like drawing strangers. First of all, he felt awkward doing it. Second, some people might think him creepy because of the glances he threw them as he drew. 

As he continued with his work, Newt wished that he could stop. But he can't, and he knows it. That was Newt's problem when it came to drawing; he couldn't stop when he finds or thinks of something to draw. He hated it. _Dammit,_ he cursed.

Almost an hour later, Newt finished with a rough sketch of the woman. It wasn't much, but it was the least he could do after having experienced a block (yes, Prim was right, he did have a block earlier). But, to be completely honest with himself, Newt actually found his latest creation great. Not one of his best ones, but after a few tweaks and outlining here and there, it just might be.

Newt smiled, feeling immensely proud of himself and his new output.

He glanced up to make sure he got the likeness of the woman correctly, but instead he saw that she and her blonde companion had gone away. Newt sighed. _Oh well…_

Newt was packing up his belonging when the familiar voice of his older brother entered his ears. "There you are!" Looking up, Newt saw Theseus and Primrose running over to him. The pair stopped in front of him, panting, hands on their knees as they catch their breath.

"We've been looking all over for you, you idiot," Prim said, standing straight. "Why weren't you answering any of our calls?"

_Calls?_ Newt wondered. Then, he blanched. _Oh, shoot._ He quickly rummaged through his bag and took out his phone. He opened it and was met with a notification that said:

_6 missed calls from Prim_

_9 missed calls from The Idiot 8 Years Older Than Me_

Newt bit his lip as he pocketed his phone. Looking at his siblings, he grimaced and shrugged. "Sorry," he apologized, "must've been deep into my work again, I guess."

Theseus raised his eyebrows. "Oh, so you finally found inspiration to draw, then?" he inquired. Newt nodded. Theseus grinned, holding his hand out. "Can we see it, then?"

Newt's hands immediately flew to his sketchbook. He held tight against his chest, shaking his head vigorously. "What—no!" he gasped.

Prim pouted. "Oh c'mon, Newt!" she whined. "Please? We went with you to this park—under this burning heat, if I might add—so you should show us!"

"Prim's right, Newt," added Theseus, who was pouting as well. Newt cringed. He wasn't doing great at that.

"It's not like I asked you to come with me!" he retorted, shaking his head. "And besides, it's not finished yet."

Theseus scoffed. "So what if it isn't finished? You've shown us many of your sketches before!" Then, Theseus darted forward and snatched Newt's sketchbook from his hands before the latter could even say a word. He flipped through, trying to find Newt's recent sketch. Prim stood beside him expectantly.

"Hey!" Newt cried, getting to feet. "Give that back!" He tried to grab his sketchbook back, but Theseus dodged him while continuing to leaf through it. Newt tried again and again to no avail, before finally giving up.

A few moments later, his siblings finally found his new sketch. "Ooh, that's nice!" Prim complimented as she stared at that page of his sketchbook.

"It is," agreed Theseus. "But who's this?" he asked, looking at Newt.

Newt blushed and looked at the grass below him. "N-no one…" he mumbled.

"Really now?" Theseus challenged. "It's not like you to draw strangers, you know."

"Yeah, I thought you _hated_ drawing people you don't know," Prim added.

Newt sighed and looked up at his siblings who were still staring at his drawing. Then, he snatched it away from Theseus's hands and shoved it back into his bag, all the while his face was as red as the reddest tomato he could find. "I told you, it's no one," he repeated, zipping his bag. He glowered at Prim. "And I told you, I do not _hate_ drawing strangers. I just—"

"—dislike it. We know, Newton," Theseus finished his sentence, chuckling. Newt groaned, rolling his eyes.

He noticed Prim eyeing him weirdly. He was about to ask why when she beat him to it. "If the woman you sketched was 'no one'," she made air quotes at "no one" for emphasis, "as you say she is, then why were you blushing when you took the sketchbook from Thes?"

Theseus hummed in agreement, nodding. "She's got a point," he said. "And you were being pretty defensive when we were asking to take a look at your drawing of her."

Newt groaned. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out so he just closed it again. He tried to think of a perfect excuse, a white lie just to get them off his back for the following days. But he couldn't think of any.

At his silence, Prim and Theseus laughed, making Newt blush even more.

"Oh my God, could this be…?" Theseus asked in between laughter.

"I think it is!" Prim replied.

Newt watched as his siblings shared a glance before blurting out in unison, "Newtie's got a crush!"

Newt sputtered, taking a step back. "I-I do not!" he denied.

"Oh, you sure do!" Prim teased, smirking.

Newt denied it again. Why on earth would he develop a crush on someone he doesn't even know, let alone talked to? And besides, it not like he'll meet her again somewhere, sometime. _Though, you do wish to see her again, don't you_? that irritating voice in his head asked.

Then, he felt an arm over his shoulder. Newt looked to his left and saw Theseus standing beside him. "C'mon, Newton, just admit it. You like whoever that woman in your sketch is," he smirked. "I mean, you wouldn't just draw anyone who hasn't caught your attention, right?"

"Yeah!" Prim chuckled. "And this woman caught your attention, which is very rare when it comes to you. So, yeah, you definitely have a crush on her."

Newt groaned. I'm too tired for this, he thought. "Just…just shut up," he sighed, walking away from his siblings.

On the way back to their hotel, Newt endured hours of teasing and ruthless poking from Prim and Theseus. But, he really had to admit, the woman was really beautiful.


End file.
